


Christmas Is Coming (And So Will You)

by ChillyWeirdoInACoffin



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Book: Gideon the Ninth (Locked Tomb Trilogy), Book: Harrow the Ninth (Locked Tomb Trilogy), Christmas Party, Christmas Smut, College, Comedy of Errors, Cunnilingus, Cursed Reindeer Boob Sweater, F/F, Oral Sex, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Ugly Sweaters, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:59:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28177266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillyWeirdoInACoffin/pseuds/ChillyWeirdoInACoffin
Summary: "You know…”, Gideon whispered, leaning closer to Harrow’s ear, her breath coming hot against her neck as she spoke, “You look adorable in that little monster covered Christmas sweater, Nonagesimus. But I bet you’d look even better without anything on at all. Naked. Underneath me. Moaning my name."Harrowhark Nonagesimus and Gideon Nav have been mortal enemies for years. After a brief, yet passionate kiss under the mistletoe at their friends Cam and Pal's annual Ugly Sweater Party last year, they reluctantly reunite once again at this year's annual event. Will past bias and misunderstandings keep them apart? Or will they finally grow up, and actually talk to each other?
Relationships: Cytherea the First/Gideon Nav, Gideon Nav & Harrowhark Nonagesimus, Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 27
Kudos: 59
Collections: The Locked Tomb Holiday Smut Festival 2020





	Christmas Is Coming (And So Will You)

Gideon pounded on the door to her friend Camilla’s apartment. She wasn’t really in the best of moods tonight, after another long crazy holiday shift at work dealing with the world’s most annoying customers. But she had promised her longtime fencing partner Camilla that she would show up for her annual Ugly Sweater Holiday Party, no matter what her Friday night had been like otherwise. She was looking forward to drinking her feelings, and pigging out on some of the chips and salsa, and cookies that she held in a grocery bag dangling off her left arm. She raised her other hand to knock on the apartment door, listening to the blasting Christmas music trailing out into the hallway, before finally someone opened it and let her inside.

“You’re late,” Camilla snarked, her face an emotionless mask as usual. She was dressed in a hideous Santa sweater that looked like it was older than either of her parents, and wore a giant candy cane hat atop her blunt, bobbed hair.

Gideon laughed to herself while taking it in, before explaining her tardiness:

“I told you I had to work late. Last Friday before Christmas is a bitch,” she said, before walking inside and setting her goodies down on the edge of Camilla’s couch. She took in the crowd, recognizing a lot of familiar faces from her classes, and around campus—including a few hotties she’d flirted with at various points through the years. Things were looking up, like this actually had the potential to be a fun night.

“By the way,” Camilla said, “Your little ex is here.” 

“Ex?,” asked Gideon.

“OK… ex-crush. The angry black haired one you always obsess over. Pal has chemistry class with her, and invited her to the party again.”

“Fuck.”

Gideon was so not in the right headspace to deal with Harrowhark Nonagesimus and her many temperamental mood swings. The two of them had gone to high school together, and—due to too many personal altercations to count-- been mortal enemies ever since. She was suddenly extra glad she had chipped in to help Cam and Pal spring for a keg for the party. It seemed as if this was going to be a heavy drinking kind of night--not like her liver really needed that. But work had been so busy, and she was so stressed, she deserved to let loose.

It had been a year since Gideon had cornered Harrow at Cam’s last Christmas party. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she’d spent most of the night lurking near the mistletoe, on the off chance that Harrow would end up close enough for Gideon to use it as an excuse to kiss her. Clearly, she had a type. And short, hot, angry goth girls seemed to be exactly it. Her strategy had paid off, and they had shared a moment of intense, passionate kissing, right in the middle of the party.

Despite how fucking hot their brief makeout session had been, Harrow had mostly avoided her ever since. Gideon knew Harrow enjoyed it just as much as she had-- she’d had a smile on her face for hours afterward. But she couldn’t figure out what made Harrow turn as cold as ice towards her from the next day forward. She wished she hadn’t gotten so drunk she couldn’t remember, or that she’d had the balls to ask after the fact. Not like it would have mattered: every time she approached Harrow in public, she ran. Other than class, and glaring at each other from across rooms during school social events, they’d barely seen each other. 

Gideon couldn’t pretend she wasn’t at least a little bit heartbroken by that fact. She was so used to getting what she wanted when it came to women. She couldn’t understand why the one woman on campus who intrigued her more than any other would reject her. After all, she was hot as hell. Built like a professional female athlete. With abs and biceps for days. They were friends for a brief stretch of high school. And everyone always told her Harrow had the hots for her. Maybe she wasn’t Harrow’s type anymore? But the intense looks Harrow gave her whenever they happened to share a class together said otherwise. She just wished Harrow would stop fucking with her head. She wanted to get to know her better, but she also wanted to not feel like shit. So she tried to stay the hell away from her. Deciding which way tonight would go would definitely prove to be a dilemma for Gideon.

As she walked into the kitchen and set her leather jacket on the back of a chair, Gideon felt eyes boring into the back of her skull so hard, she wondered if someone was going to sneak up and attack her from behind. She knew, just fucking knew it had to be Harrow. She continued on her mission toward the refrigerator, refusing to let the pressure of Harrow’s gaze razz her in any way. This was going to be a long night. She clearly had a lot of work ahead of her, but planned to start by getting completely and utterly shitfaced and avoiding her feelings. It was the best way to handle an unrequited crush, after all.

Palamedes Sextus, Camilla’s longtime best friend and roommate, was busy cleaning up empty cups, preparing trays of veggies and dips, and setting out other snacks for guests when Gideon found him in the kitchen.

“Sup, Sex Pal.”

“Gideon, please, I told you to stop calling me that in public.”

“We’re only in Cam’s kitchen. Plus, I can’t really be expected to be on my best behavior right now. I told you I had one rule this year, and you broke it.”

“What’s that?,” asked Pal inquisitively? “I got the gluten free bread and crackers like you asked!”

“I told you to warn me if you invited Harrow again, after what happened last time,” Gideon said. Just in time to turn around and come face to face with the angry goth witch herself, wearing a black and red, blood splattered Krampus sweater-- which in Gideon’s mind seemed totally fitting. Of course Harrow would favor an outfit featuring a terrible child stealing, holiday monster in favor of something more traditional like Santa Claus, or a Christmas tree.

“Wow,” Harrow drawled as she continued walking the rest of the way into the kitchen, “Nice to see you are the bastion of maturity as usual, Griddle.”

“Don’t call me that, Harrow. You don’t get to give me nicknames after what happened at the party last year…”

“Whatever do you mean?,” Harrow asked.

“I know you know what I’m talking about.”

“Really Griddle…I have no clue. I barely even remember about you most of the time.”

With that, Harrow grabbed a cup of beer, turned on her heel, and left Gideon red faced and furious in the kitchen.

“What on Earth did you do to her, Nav?,” Pal asked. “I can’t tell if she wants to sleep with you, or kill you, and then boil your skeleton in hot oil to make sure you die a second time.”

“I wish I knew.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harrow couldn’t believe her shit luck. Of course Gideon would end up at Cam’s annual ugly sweater party. They were fencing sparring partners after all, and seemed to be close friends too. She had been both hoping and dreading Gideon would make an appearance, but currently, leaned far more towards dread. It had been a year, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how the red head’s luscious lips had felt when they brushed against her own. How soft it had felt when Harrow ran her fingers through the fine hairs on the back of Gideon’s neck . It was just a brief, drunken makeout under some mistletoe, but it was enough to fuel Harrow’s late night fantasies for the past year. She had lost count of the number of times she imagined Gideon’s mouth on hers—imagined it all over her body; sucking, kissing, and caressing her everywhere.

Nothing she could do on her own was ever enough. No touches soothed her the way she wished Gideon’s would. She only wished the other girl’s actions told her that she felt the same. Gideon was a shameless flirt, and despite kissing Harrow, and asking her to meet up with her after the party, she was nowhere to be found after-- leaving Harrow heart broken, alone, and stranded without a ride after telling her other dorm mates not to wait for her. She vowed to never forget what she viewed as purposeful teasing on Gideon’s behalf. It was just like being back in high school! Of course someone that hot, that athletic and good looking wouldn’t be interested in a petite, flat chested book nerd like her. She had heard tales of Gideon’s sexual exploits. Seen her around campus with gorgeous, athletic girls so statuesque they could be professional basketball players. She knew of her extensive magazine collection, and that her tastes leaned more towards buxom blondes than someone like Harrow. She promised herself she wouldn’t care ever again.

As more and more guests arrived, Harrow worked her way into the spacious living room, and secured a spot on Cam’s old plaid couch. She was fine socializing, as long as she was left to observe from afar. Jeannemary, one of her few classmates she actually liked besides Pal, quickly ran over and sat next to her and attempted to catch up. She wore a green sweater with a Christmas tree print, that was covered in ornamental bells. It rang out ceaselessly with her every gesture, much to Harrow’s irritation. They discussed the usual topics, like how finals had gone, and what their plans were for the upcoming holiday. But Harrow couldn’t manage to lose her distracting sense of awareness at knowing Gideon was nearby.

Jeanemarry asked Harrow a question that she must not have heard, because she waved her arms in front of her face and repeated it a second time. “HELLO! Did you see that Nav girl is here? Holy shit are her biceps HUGE! And her hair is amazing! Didn’t you two kiss under the mistletoe last year?!”

Harrow glared at her friend, suddenly all out of patience. “Yes, we did. And it was absolutely terrible.”

“Wow, Nonagesimus. I knew you were a raging bitch, but I didn’t think even you were that harsh,” Gideon said, suddenly appearing next to her. Harrow hadn’t even seen her enter the room, and cursed the timing. Clearly, the universe was not on her side tonight. The two beers she’d consumed must already be getting to her, if she was that unobservant. So why did Gideon’s presence make her want to drown her sorrows, and go grab a third?

Just as Harrow convinced herself to get up to get another drink, screams came from the kitchen. She rolled her eyes, but continued on her journey for a refill.

“KEG STAND TIME!,” shrieked Palamedes. She had no clue what had gotten into her classmate, who was usually quite reserved, and more interested in science experiments than booze. She guessed everyone needed to let loose occasionally. It was the end of the semester after all. By that point, most of the other guests had entered the kitchen to also see what was going on. A small crew of people were holding Sextus upside down, his mouth over the keg tap as he tried, and failed to consume a rapidly flowing stream of beer. It made a mess. Everywhere.

Not to be outdone, Gideon herself decided to go next. The crowd cheered as she too was lifted upside down, only this time, there was less mess. Harrow hated herself for noticing how Gideon’s sweater—a black sweater with the words “Don we know our gay apparel” printed across the front in rainbow text—creeped downward once Gideon was held vertically, exposing her rock hard, bronze toned abs. Harrow thought she might start drooling then and there. She wanted to run her tongue over them, too see how Gideon would react. She pinched herself on the wrist to help snap out of it. Which 100% did not work…

“Whoooo!!,” Gideon screamed, as the crowd around her set her back down. “Hey Harrow. Your turn!”

“No. No way in hell am I doing that,” Harrow spat.

“Oh come on, lighten up and live a little. We all know you could use another drink or two to help loosen up that stick that’s stuck up your ass.”

Harrow was fuming now. The last thing she wanted to do was be teased and upstaged by Gideon for the second year in a row. She would never admit it to anyone else, but still couldn’t decide if she wanted to fuck her, punch her, or both. Yet she refused to be mocked by her. Harrow was no one’s plaything.

“Fine! I’ll try it.” 

She walked toward the keg as the crowd of friends and strangers looked on. She fully expected multiple people to offer to lift her up. But when she reached the side of the keg, only Gideon was still there, and offering.

“We need someone else to help,” said Harrow.

“Nah, what do you mean, I can totally lift your tiny little bird legs up by myself. Have you SEEN these guns?,” asked Gideon, flexing.

Harrow had indeed seen those guns. Had felt them. Still dreamed about how they felt wrapped around her body. How safe she’d felt. They’d only shared the one kiss. But it had been long, and drawn out enough that Harrow would never forget it.

“What do I do, Nav?,” she asked.

“Just put your hands on the front rim of the keg, like this.” Gideon stood directly behind Harrow, took hold of both of her arms, and gently maneuvered her wrists into place. Harrow could obviously hold on to things of her own volition, but she let Gideon move her as if she was a Neanderthal first learning how to grasp tools. She felt the brush of Gideon’s taut, muscular body behind her, and sighed, leaning backwards into it, rubbing her shoulders against Gideon’s chest. Gideon’s breath hitched, as if she was caught off guard by the contact. Before she had the chance to react, she backed off, leaving Harrow desperately missing the physical contact and warmth.

“OK, so now, I’m going to lift your feet up into the air. Isaac over there will hold the hose up to your mouth. When he turns on the tap, suck as hard as you can,” Gideon said, giggling.

“Really Griddle? You’re not even trying to not make this seem obscene.”

“You caught me! OK let’s go!,” she shouted, before grabbing Harrow’s feet and lifting her diagonally on top of the keg before she could make a complaint. As soon as she was in position, Isaac stuck the tap into her mouth, and let it loose. He may have only been a freshman, but he clearly knew what he was doing. Harrow was suddenly overwhelmed by the rush of ice-cold beer invading her mouth from the tap. Despite knowing full well what was coming, after 15 or 20 seconds of drinking, she soon coughed and sputtered, spitting beer everywhere down the front of her face, and onto nearby observers. Gideon howled with laughter, and gently sat Harrow back down onto her feet, before leaning across the counter to snag a dish towel for her to wipe herself off with.

Harrow frantically tried to dry her sweater before the beer soaked in. Gideon grabbed a second towel and started to help, wiping the front of Harrow’s chest off before either of them even knew what was happening.

“What are you doing Griddle!?,” Harrow hissed. “You’re pawing at my chest like an oaf!”

Gideon smirked, and showed off that crooked smile that made Harrow go weak in the knees. “Honestly...I don’t even know, Harrow. That wasn’t on purpose! But you seemed to be enjoying it. But shit---If I totally read that wrong—I’ll stop. I just didn’t want to ruin your sweater.”

Harrow was stunned into silence, and froze like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. She started up into Gideon’s golden eyes; she had forgotten how mesmerizing they were up close.

“You know…”, Gideon whispered, leaning closer to Harrow’s ear, her breath coming hot against her neck as she spoke, “You look adorable in that little monster covered Christmas sweater, Nonagesimus. But I bet you’d look even better without anything on at all. Naked. Underneath me. Moaning my name.”

Harrow went fire engine red, from the apples of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She tried to speak, but couldn’t. And Gideon just stood there smiling all the while. She leaned forward, staring at Gideon’s full, luscious lips as they both leaned closer and closer together…

Suddenly, shrieking came from the living room. The few other guests who had remained in the kitchen dashed away to see what had caused the commotion. The spell broken, Harrow leaned back and away from Gideon. She silently cursed herself for almost giving in and kissing the gorgeous, infuriating girl standing in front of her. The drunken screams of joy and laughter from the other room grew even louder, and with a deep sigh, Gideon backed away from Harrow and headed out of the kitchen. She turned back and held out her hand.

“Are you coming?”

Harrow gazed at Gideon’s hand longingly, but she did not take it. She just nodded and followed behind the muscular ginger, enjoying the view she got of Gideon’s firm, round ass on the short walk to the living room. Once she arrived, however, her heart nearly stopped. Coronabeth, another of her former classmates, had just walked inside with her vapid, holier than thou, store brand knockoff twin, Ianthe. Despite her usual annoyance at the less friendly twin’s arrival, that wasn’t what had Harrow gasping out loud just now. It was the curvier, prettier twin’s sweater.

The entire party had stopped dead in its tracks to stare at one of Corona’s very large, vey exposed breasts hanging outside of a circular hole cut out of the middle of her sweater. It was the single worst “ugly sweater” Harrow had ever seen. She’d thought this was something that only existed in memes, and the darkest corners of the internet: but no. It was a reindeer boob sweater, live and in the flesh right before her very eyes, with a big, red nose covering the nipple, and antlers over top. Harrow needed another beer immediately. And about a gallon of brain bleach, or a DIY lobotomy to purge the sight from her mind.

Gideon however was absolutely entranced. Harrow knew which direction Gideon’s tastes skewed. It was a huge part of why she had talked herself out of ever pursuing anything between the two of them. They might fight, and flirt, and talk shit to each other whenever their paths crossed. But Harrow refused to be some sort of placeholder until Gideon found someone better, someone more in line with her particular tastes. Corona was older—a senior-- and rarely gave a lowly sophomore like Gideon the time of day. Sadly that didn’t stop her from following her around like a lost puppy looking for a new master whenever the curvaceous blonde appeared.

Harrow scoffed to herself, totally disgusted, and moved to leave Gideon behind to go find a dark corner to lurk in, and spend the rest of her night avoiding most people at this party. Actually, she thought, she could still use another drink, then she would find somewhere to sit, alone. But once she returned to the kitchen, she started to second guess herself...

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gideon was still staring at Corona when Cam came up behind her, startling her out of her titty trance.

“Wow. That sure is something,” she said, deadpan.

“Lesbi-honest,” said Gideon, who assumed that all of her puns were funny automatically. “I haven’t seen any tits besides my own in…a while. You could even say I’ve dreamed of this moment for the last two years. I just never imagined it would be like THIS. I’m honestly quite scared.”

“Speaking of scary,” said Cam, “where did your shadow run off to? You two seemed to be pretty close to working out your differences, last I saw in my kitchen.”

“Harrow? We didn’t work out shit. Every time I think I get somewhere with her, things go to hell again. I don’t understand her at all. She pretends to hate me, but watches me like a mother hen tending a baby chick. I just don’t get it Cam.”

“Why don’t you, I don’t know, actually go TALK to her, instead of trying to move straight to trying to fuck her? Or antagonizing her?,” Cam asked. “You know that’s what normal people do. Talk and try to get to know each other before touching each other's genitals.”

“Wow Cam, thank you for that incredibly clinical description of sex. You’d totally never guess you’re in pre-med…”

Cam laughed at Gideon then, a rare, but not unwelcome sound. “For someone who has hair that almost glows in the dark—you’re really not that bright you know,” she said, before moving on to greet the Tridentarii twins, and socialize with more incoming guests at the party.

Gideon didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Harrow. Not after she saw her around campus. Not after they shared such an amazing kiss at this very party the year before. And definitely not since she saw Harrow flush with embarrassment at Gideon’s over the top flirting in the kitchen a few minutes before. Cam was right-- she needed to get her shit together and just talk to her. But first, she needed some more liquid courage. 

Gideon maneuvered through the packed crowd, trying to squeeze her way back toward the kitchen. But she was stopped by a small tug on the sleeve of her sweater. Looking back, she saw Cytherea, her friend Dulcinea’s cousin, and one of Gideon’s former one night stands. She must be in town visiting Dulcie again. Gideon could sooo not deal with this right now. She tried to leave, but the brown haired beauty tugged her back again. Gideon looked up, groaning internally at what she found hanging above her head. 

“You know the rules, Nav!” Get stuck under the mistletoe with someone, and you must kiss!”

“I’m busy.”

“No cheating! Pal said everyone had to participate this year, no matter what. He figured you in particular would try to cheat.”

“Fine,” said Gideon. She let herself be manhandled by her former hookup, standing still as the other girl leaned forward to kiss her. Gideon didn’t kiss her back. But that didn’t matter. She opened her eyes back up once again, right in time to see a look of disgust and betrayal on Harrow’s face. Harrow dropped one of the beers she was holding onto the floor. She must have changed her mind about disappearing, and decided to give Gideon another chance. And Gideon had spectacularly blown it—as usual.

“Fuck!,” she said, much louder than she intended. She turned to Cytherea. “Not to be rude, but I soooo cannot do this right now.” She ran off down the hall, calling for Harrow, but unable to find her in the crowd. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

Harrow chastised herself for being so stupid. What did she expect? This was Gideon, after all. Hot one minute, ice cold and so frozen she could give you instant frostbite the next. Harrow had forgone hiding alone in a dark corner in favor or grabbing beers for the both of them, and making one last attempt to talk to Gideon. She shouldn’t be surprised it had ended in disaster. She honestly felt like she might cry. She had finally opened herself up and decided to give someone a chance, only to get rejected and humiliated again. It was just too much.

Christmas was already one of the hardest times of year for her. Ever since she’d lost her parents, it had never been the fun, happy holiday of her childhood. But this just made it all even worse. The loneliness and rejection was crushing. She had lost track of the number of drinks she’d had, and could now add “tipsy” on top of her list of unwanted feelings. She needed to find an empty bathroom to go cry in, immediately.

After a bit of searching, she found one attached to Cam’s guest bedroom. She shut the bathroom door behind her, sat down, and cried.

After what felt like forever, but was probably more like ten minutes, Harrow decided to stop feeling sorry for herself. She could make her face look presentable again, go have one more beer, and then go home. It had been a long week. And with the unwelcome specter of Christmas just a few days away, she was completely done with everyone and everything.

She took the small sprig of mistletoe she had asked Pal for—just in case—out of the pocket of her jeans, and threw it into the bathroom trash can. So much for that. She clicked off the bathroom light, shut the door, and started to head back outside to the party. Instead, she came face to face with Gideon Nav.

“What are you doing, Harrow?,” Gideon asked her. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Whatever for, Griddle?” questioned Harrow, in the most dismissively possible tone. “Did you lose track of one of your other hookups? Come to find Harrow to fuck with her yet again. I know what you’re doing, and it won’t work. If this is all just some game for you—flirt with the weird girl from high school, and get her interested, before you ditch her again—it’s not going to work. I fell for that charade last time. Won’t happen again.”

“What are you even talking about?! I never ditched you! And why do you hate me so damn much Harrow. You’re so hot and cold. I’ve been throwing myself at you for years. You act like you’re into me, and then you get mad, and run off. Rinse, and repeat. It happens over and over again. I’m not even sure why I’m still trying. But just when I feel like giving up, I’ll catch you staring at me in class again. You look at me like a hungry wolf, eyeing a sheep.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Griddle. Or what you say—your actions say otherwise. Every time I see you, you’re throwing yourself at an older woman, or the owners of every pair of double D’s within a 5 mile radius of campus.”

“Maybe,” said Gideon, “it’s because you won’t give me the time of day! I know you enjoyed our kiss last year. I waited for you after the party so I could walk you home, and ask you to go to brunch with me the next morning. Like, on an actual date. But you never showed. And then Ianthe came out and told me you’d left.” 

“You what…that’s impossible.” 

Harrow did not understand how they could have possibly missed each other after the party had ended. Until she remembered coming out of the bathroom to find Ianthe Tridentarius, gloating, telling her everyone else had gone-- including Gideon, who she claimed had left with an upperclassman. Ianthe had then demanded she help her clean up after the party. Harrow was left alone and rejected again, with an expensive taxi ride home to pay for to top it all off.

“That BITCH!” 

Harrow was pissed now. Ready to throw down. Ianthe had hated her ever since Harrow had pushed her out of the top spot in their advanced chemistry class. She couldn’t bear the thought of someone so much younger than her being so much smarter.

“It sounds like we’ve both been total morons,” said Gideon.

“You possibly more than me, Griddle,” Harrow muttered. “But yes.”

“Can we please just cut the shit, and start over?” 

Gideon was staring down at Harrow now, desire smoldering in her gold coin colored eyes.

“I really want to kiss you again, Harrow. More than that, if I’m being honest…”  
Gideon leaned forward, eyes on Harrow’s mouth. But Harrow put her hand on her chest and stopped her.

“Wait! Give me just a second.” 

She turned and ran back into the bathroom, leaving a confused Gideon in her wake. Then grabbed the mistletoe she’d abandoned before. When she returned, Gideon was giving her a major case of side eye, not sure why Harrow had fabricated a delay.

“I wanted to do this right,” Harrow said shyly. “Did you really mean what you said before…about my sweater? And that you think I’m adorable?”

Gideon nodded. For all her bravado, she suddenly looked as nervous as Harrow felt.

Fuck it, Harrow thought. This is my one chance to fix this. She stood up on her tippy toes, and held the mistletoe over Gideon’s head. Or at least tried to—Gideon was a full head taller than her, and it was a big reach. She didn’t come anywhere close.

“Give me that, my little twilit princess,” said Gideon, before raising the mistletoe up over both of their heads this time.

Harrow smiled--a real smile for the first time in as long as she could remember—then tilted her head upward, and pressed her mouth to Gideon’s.

Her lips were so damn soft. As their mouths moved together, she imagined she could spend the rest of her life doing this, and never get sick of it. Her mouth opened further, and Gideon’s tongue swept into it. Harrow ran her fingers through Gidoen’s soft hair, over the taught muscles of her back, and pulled her even tighter against her chest. She thought she might die right then and there on the spot. Gideon tasted so good, and everywhere she touched Harrow, she set her body on fire. Her hands traveled down her back to cup her ass, and then suddenly, Gideon was lifting her up, wrapping her legs expertly around her waist pulling Harrow closer than ever. She was moaning now. Already going wild, and dripping wet from simply making out with Gideon. Harrow knew if these sensations already felt this good, this overwhelming she might just spontaneously combust if they moved forward. Gideon was the match held up to the kindling of Harrow’s heart, and she was ready to burn.

She pulled her mouth away from Gideon’s long enough to pant out a single phrase: “Lock the door, Griddle”. Gideon didn’t have to be told twice! She waddled over to the door, with Harrow still wrapped around her like a clingy koala, locked it, then maneuvered them both back to the bed.

“Won’t Cam be mad we’re in her guest room?,” Gideon breathed.

“I don’t fucking care,” said Harrow. “I’ve been waiting a year for this. I can’t wait one single second longer." Gideon lifted Harrow’s sweater up over her head, exposing her black lace bralette that was soon invaded by Gideon’s desperate, searching hands. Harrow gasped into Gideon’s mouth as she felt both of her nipples pinched at the same time.

“Fuck!,” she said. “Get this thing off of me, Nav.”

Gideon lifted the lacy fabric over Harrow’s head, then immediately returned to kissing her more aggressively than ever. It left Harrow gasping as her tongue was suckled, and Gideon’s hands roamed over her entire body. She pulled Gideon’s head closer, and moved to leave wet, hot, trailing kisses down the other girl’s neck.

“I need you inside me, Gideon. Now.”

Gideon did not have to be told twice. She swiftly unbuttoned Harrow’s black jeans, and dipped her fingertips beneath the black lace underwear she found beneath. Harrow was soaked, a discovery which left Gideon moaning appreciatively.

“God you’re so wet Harrow.”

She teased her fingers down further, twining them through Harrow’s damp curls, before descending down to the folds of Harrow’s cunt. Her thumb traced circles around Harrow’s clit. She was left gasping and moaning already, and things were just getting started

“Griddle, please,” Harrow whined. She could not take this much longer. Finally, Gideon’s long, strong fingers dipped inside her, and she almost collapsed into a heap onto the floor over how good it felt.

“More,” she moaned, as Gideon slipped a second, and then a third finger inside her. She moaned louder than ever now, unable to contain herself, beyond caring who might be lurking on the other side of the wall and hear them. Gideon fucked her right there against the wall, not even bothering to maneuver over towards the empty king size bed across from them. Neither of them could wait a second longer.

They were kissing each other like they’d been starving for it. One of Harrow’s hands roaming up Gideon’s muscular back, while the other caressed her face. She was gasping between kisses, and riding Gideon’s hand straight into oblivion. Harrow felt herself losing control as Gideon’s fingers thrusted harder inside her, curling until they hit just the right spot, and pushing her over the edge. She broke away from Gideon’s mouth, and screamed as she came.

She thought she might actually black out from the pure pleasure of it all. Gideon kissed her again, then stopped, her smoldering eyes searching Harrow’s face with concern.

“Are you OK Harrow?”

“Nav, I feel better than I have in years.” She kissed Gideon again, softer and sweeter this time, before she stopped to lift Gideon’s moist, glistening fingers up toward her mouth, and began to suck.

“Fuck, Harrow! I think I might come just from watching you do that.”

Harrow giggled, before replying, “well that wouldn’t be fair now, would it.” 

She stepped the rest of the way out of her jeans, fully naked now, pushed Gideon back onto the edge of the bed, and straddled her hips. She leaned forward and kissed Gideon, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, which earned her a long, low moan from deep in Gideon’s throat.

Gideon reached up to caress one of Harrow’s breasts again, but was quickly swatted away.

“I want to make you feel as good as I do, Griddle."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harrow edged off of Gideon’s hips, and stood in front of her, naked and magnificent. It was the hottest thing Gideon had ever seen. Until 10 seconds later, when Harrow upped the ante and made things even hotter. She kneeled down at the edge of the bed, as if Gideon were a god she was praying to. She reached down, and unzipped Gideon’s jeans, tugging them off, along with her boots and socks. Her underwear, which had to be absolutely soaked, came next. 

Harrow eyed Gideon’s glistening, damp, cunt hungrily, spreading her legs out to get an even better view.

“Harrow…” Gideon moaned. She knew she was in trouble. She was absolutely not going to be able to handle what was about to happen.

Harrow smirked at her, and chastised her impatience before leaning forward and pressing her face into Gideon’s waiting cunt. Harrow ran her tongue slowly up and down her folds. Gideon was moaning more, and louder than ever. She was so beyond caring how she sounded, if it was too much, or if anyone outside could hear. She needed Harrow now, before she actually begged or cried. Lucky for her, Harrow sensed her desperation. She continued working Gideon over with her tongue, moving her way up to her clit, and circling it in slow, torturous strokes that left Gideon shuddering on the bed.

“Do you want me to fuck you?,” Harrow asked.

“God yes. Please.”

“Good girl,” said Harrow, before she traced a path up Gideon’s thighs toward her core. And then suddenly, Gideon was moaning, a high, animal whine, as Harrow circled her entrance, and plunged two fingers inside. Thrusting in and out, as her mouth worked Gideon’s clit, Gideon rocked her hips, trying to get closer and closer to Harrow’s face, and tongue, and fingers. Harrow added a third finger, which left Gideon actually screaming now. She felt like she may genuinely die from the overwhelming sensation of it all. Harrow thrust faster, until Gideon found herself coming undone, her body clenching around Harrow’s small, but expert fingers as Gideon gasped and cried out Harrow’s name over and over again.

When she was done, Harrow stood up, then crawled back onto Gideon’s soaking wet lap, a small, triumphant smile on her face.

“You never even bothered to take your sweater off, Griddle.”

“No worries. I figure we’ve got all night. You can see my magnificent tits for yourself after we rest a bit,” said Gideon, leaving Harrow giggling, before lowering her mouth to kiss her some more. 

“Merry Christmas, Harrow,” said Gideon. Who then kissed her, and kept kissing her again and again. Until after they couldn’t take it anymore, and the ugly sweater was finally lifted up over her head. Leaving Harrow to worship Gideon’s magnificent tits, and everything else for the rest of the night, before they passed out in a heap together in Cam’s guest bed.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

Around 3am, Cam and Palamedes opened their guest bedroom door to find their two sleeping friends half naked in their guest bed. They looked at each other, before rolling their eyes, and holding back laughter.

“Looks like these two gay idiots finally talked things out,” Cam said.

“It would appear so,” said Pal, gently closing the door behind them. “Let’s let them sleep it off. We can roast the shit out of them tomorrow. And give them our laundry bill.”

“I can’t wait,” said Cam. “They are never, ever going to live this down.”

**Author's Note:**

> Created for the Locked Tomb Holiday Smut Fest 2020, via the prompt:
> 
> # 20. Ugly sweater party causes Gideon to joke to Harrow about how she’d look better naked. Harrow takes her up on that. Gideon never gets the chance to take her own ugly sweater off.
> 
> Thank you to GallPall for beta reading this for me! :)


End file.
